BY Carrie Demers ON
May 16, 2013
http://yogainternational.com/article/view/food-for-the-wise
Long ago there lived a saınt ın a forest near the royal
city, a very good and wise man, known and loved by the king. One day the king
invited the saint to dine with him at the palace. The saint accepted the offer,
and the two men enjoyed a hearty meal together.
Afterwards the king suggested that the saint rest awhile
before returning to his hut, and led the holy man to the royal couple’s private
chambers, where he took a short nap. When he awoke, the saint caught sight of a
beautiful necklace belonging to the queen. It glittered with gems and gold, and
his mind was mesmerized by it. “I need that necklace,” he thought. “I have no
wealth, and no security for my old age. This is the perfect solution to my
poverty. No one will ever suspect me.” So he tucked the necklace away in his
robe and bid his host farewell.
Soon afterwards the queen noticed that the necklace was
missing. The servants turned the palace upside down looking for it. The queen
scolded and threatened, but to no avail—it was nowhere to be found, and none of
the servants would admit to taking it, even after the beatings began.
Meanwhile, the saint began to fret about being caught with
the stolen treasure. His mind raced. “They will never suspect me because of my
spiritual stature. But what if they do? I will pay for this misdeed!” When he
arrived home, he looked around anxiously, but the bare hut offered no hiding
place that seemed safe enough. Distraught, he finally buried the necklace in
the forest, carefully noting the place so he could find it again. He went to
bed exhausted, but slept badly.
The next morning the holy man went outside to do his morning
ablutions, and after passing stool and urine his mind became clearer. “What
have I done!” he exclaimed. “Why did I steal that necklace? I’m a mendicant.
What have I to do with loss and gain? What do I want with a necklace or with
the money that such a piece would bring?”
Unable to comprehend his own actions, he returned to his hut
and sat for his morning meditation, but he could not let go of his thoughts for
long. His mind was caught in the maze: why had he stolen the necklace in the
first place, and why had he been so fearful all night? Gradually, he came to
the conclusion that his meal with the king must hold the answer. He realized
that as long as the food was in his body, his thinking was distorted and it did
not become really clear again until he had cleansed his body and quieted his
mind for meditation.
Eager to test this theory, he unearthed the necklace and
returned with it to the palace, which was abuzz with news of the theft. The
saint told the king that he could help find the necklace if the king would answer
a few questions. The king agreed readily. Although he was puzzled when the
saint asked him about the origin of yesterday’s meal, he responded
respectfully.
After questioning the cook and the manager of the
storehouse, they discovered that the grain—which formed the bulk of the
meal—came from a village controlled by a wealthy and greedy lord. (In those
days, it was customary for farmers to give part of their harvest to the king as
a tax.) The landlord habitually stole from the villagers, collecting more grain
than was required to meet the taxes, and selling the excess for his own profit.
Hence, the grain was grown by people who were fearful and anxious—they knew
they would be robbed at harvest time. The grain was further polluted by the
greed of the landlord. Because the saint was so pure, his mind reflected the
consciousness of what he had eaten strongly and immediately. Satisfied that he
had found the cause of his derangement, the saint explained it to the king and
returned the necklace.
Are We What We Eat?
We are accustomed to the idea that the chemical makeup of
food affects our bodies, that proteins, fats, carbohydrates, fiber, and
vitamins are all absorbed and used by the tissues for maintenance, growth, and
repair. But as this story suggests, food has other properties as well,
properties that affect us at a deeper level. Does the origin of what we eat,
how it is grown, processed, prepared, and eaten affect our mind and
consciousness as well as our body? The sages would answer, “Of course!” According
to the ancient texts these venerable scientists performed numerous experiments
on themselves with a variety of foods, painstakingly documenting the results.
What they discovered is that food is an embodiment of the life force; it
affects us on all levels—physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual.
In the West, we tend to think of food as fuel, ignoring its
subtler effects. We know enough to say, “You are what you eat,” recognizing
that our bodies are affected by our diet, but we never dream that there is a
more profound interpretation of that saying—that we are, we assimilate at a
deep level, the sum of the characteristics of the food we eat. In addition to
absorbing the physical components such as calories, protein, and carbohydrates,
we also assimilate the attitudes with which food has been grown, harvested,
processed, and sold. Thus food has the potential to feed or starve our very
souls.
Let’s examine this notion, beginning with flesh foods.
Research shows that foods derived from animal flesh are harmful to humans. This
is not just because flesh foods often contain high levels of cholesterol,
although this is a part of the problem. Another part is that the animals have
been fed hormones and antibiotics that remain in the meat and are transmitted
to those who eat it. But the real problem, according to the ancients, is that
the flesh of conscious beings carries within it the memory and the emotion of
the kind of life they have led, and that by eating it we transfer these same
tendencies (samskaras in yogic parlance) to ourselves.
This hypothesis bears closer examination. The direct effect
of food on consciousness is not easily observed, especially if—unlike the saint
in our story—we are living a hectic life, full of sensory stimulation. But the
yogis insist that it has a cumulative effect, whether or not we can observe it.
The effect is greater if the food carries an intense consciousness, as does the
flesh of animals. Let’s take as an example cattle that are raised and
slaughtered for profit. These cattle are bred, pastured, and later fattened in
feedlots, so they have come to depend on humans. Their instinct for
self-protection has been weakened by their trust in their caretakers. When they
find themselves at the door of the slaughterhouse their survival instinct tells
them they are going to be killed by the same beings they have come to look to
for food and protection—they go to their deaths bewildered, angry, frightened,
and desperate. These powerful negative emotions release a strong chemical into
the bloodstream that permeates their flesh. It follows that those who
habitually eat this flesh are taking within themselves the samskara of
mistrust, anger, fear, and desperation.
The samskaras of non-flesh foods are not nearly as strong.
The consciousness in fruits, vegetables, and grains is not so highly developed
as the consciousness in animals. According to the yogis, the only way to
contaminate plant food with strong negative samskaras is for it to be grown and
harvested by people who are themselves extremely negative. Even then, the
samskara will be weak because the consciousness of a carrot, for example, is
itself quite weak.
On the other hand, the yogis tell us that grain has a
greater power to absorb and transmit samskaras. Grain is seed. In addition to containing
carbohydrates, protein, and oil, it has the ability to sprout and grow. Grain
gathers samskaras more efficiently than do fruits and root vegetables, for
example, and for this reason the yoga texts advise those who undertake the
higher spiritual practices to increase the portions of wild grains, fruits, and
vegetables in their diet, and reduce the amount of cultivated grain. In fact,
according to the scriptures, wild grains and fruits are permitted during
practices that require fasting. The samskaras of grain that has not been
cultivated, as well as the samskaras of fruits and roots, are neutral; they
will not affect the consciousness of the practitioner in any active way.
Let’s take this link between food and consciousness one step
further. In the wild, animals kill other animals for food—for survival. We
humans kill domesticated animals for profit. And increasingly, family farms
that were once the major source of our fruits, grains, and vegetables are
giving way to giant food conglomerates where the only concern is for the bottom
line. Thus, the consciousness we are absorbing when we eat mass-produced food
is profit-oriented and business-oriented. If we are indeed affected by the
samskaras of the food we eat, a steady diet of mass-produced food will
eventually cause us to develop a convoluted relationship toward others—a
customer/merchant relationship based on selfishness, greed, and the desire for
gain.
How We Become What We
Eat
Assuming for the moment that the yogis are correct when they
say that food affects consciousness, it is reasonable to ask how this takes
place. The answer offered by the science of Ayurveda is that food affects
consciousness, first by affecting the three bodily humors, or doshas—vata,
pitta, and kapha. Some foods are predominantly vatic, some pittic, and some
kaphic. These humors in turn affect the mind, which then affects consciousness.
Let’s see how this works in daily life.
Food gives us life; therefore it is important that our food
have life in it. Canned foods—or anything with a bar code—has lost its
vitality. It does not enliven. It still has calories, but calories that are
somehow deadening. The ancients called this quality tamasic—that which leads to
a state of dullness, boredom, or lethargy. Food that is tamasic—dead, overly
cooked, old, stale, fermented, or highly processed—has a dulling effect on the
body and mind. It can lead to obesity even though it is lacking in nourishment.
Those who build their diets around it are often overweight and undernourished
at the same time.
Foods in which vata predominates are said to be rajasic.
Such foods are agitating and overly stimulating to the body and mind. Sugar,
caffeine, and highly spiced foods are rajasic. After eating them, our bodies
grow restless, and our minds become overactive, critical, angry, and impatient.
We often eat these foods to counter the dullness engendered by the tamasic
foods we have just consumed. (How often do we reach for a cup of coffee or a
caffeinated soda after eating a highly processed meal or snack?)
Those of us trying to live a yogic life strive to eat foods
that lead to a state of calmness and clarity. Foods that are pitta-predominant
nourish awareness and are said to be sattvic. Most fresh fruits, vegetables,
grains, and legumes are sattvic, as are some dairy products—milk, ghee, and
cheeses like paneer that have not been aged. Ideally, sattvic foods are grown
and harvested without pesticides, herbicides, and harsh chemical fertilizers
that damage the soil. Such foods are neither dulling nor stimulating. When we
eat a sattvic diet our own intrinsic nature—calm, clear, and aware—has the
opportunity to shine forth.
This is not to say that we should limit ourselves to sattvic
foods. A healthy body needs the quality of solidity (kapha or tamas), energy
(vata or rajas), and lightness (pitta or sattva). The optimal diet combines all
of these, with sattva predominating. A diet so balanced leads to a body that
has the qualities of weight and solidity while remaining light and energetic.
Thus, what we eat affects our behavior and our energy body. The characteristics
of the physical and energy bodies in turn are reflected in our mind and
consciousness.
This is why the yogis tell us that the source and quality of
our food is so important. Yet most of us are dependent on the food that is
commercially available. We have little choice as to what type of food is sold.
For the most part we do not know who grew it, how it was processed, or where it
came from. Still, we do have some choices. We can avoid processed food and buy
in its stead the freshest food available. We can encourage and take advantage
of the trend toward organic food. We can patronize farmers’ markets. Those of
us who eat animal products can buy eggs produced by free-range chickens and raw
milk from cows that are well cared for. And we can pay attention to how our
food is prepared and how we eat it.
The Cook as Spiritual
Guardian
In India, where meditation has been a way of life for
thousands of years, those who prepare the family food are dedicated to their
art and valued for their skill. Here food and God, or Brahman, are recognized
as one and the same. Preparing food thoughtlessly or ineptly is regarded as a
form of sacrilege. Those who prepare food have the well-being of the household
in their hands, for the sages say that if we prepare food while harboring
angry, destructive thoughts, the food turns to poison.
Food gives life and connects us to the source of life. When
we eat food prepared by those who do not care for us, those who are cooking for
profit, and those who would rather be doing something else, we end up with
physical and mental indigestion; we are absorbing the energy of the cook along
with the energy of the food. According to the Puranas (ancient scriptures of
India) selling cooked food is one of the worst sins imaginable. Food is to be
offered to the god of fire, Vaishvanara, not to be treated as merchandise. And
the Puranas warn that whenever the practice of selling cooked food becomes
widespread, it is an unmistakable sign that the Kali Yuga (dark age or age of
vice) has arrived.
Rather than relying on food prepared by others, we should
cook for ourselves and our loved ones, or allow them to cook for us. The more
time we spend handling and preparing our food, the stronger our relationship
with it. When we prepare food our feelings automatically go into it, changing
it in subtle but significant ways. When we buy commercially prepared food and
simply heat it up, the food goes into our bodies without being mediated by our
consciousness.
The stronger our link with what we eat, the more it
nourishes us. The yogic method of testing this hypothesis is to experiment with
it. Start slowly. Make a commitment to spend more time in the kitchen,
preparing whole, fresh food once or twice a week. See what happens as you build
a relationship with your food. Do you feel better? How does the food you
prepare yourself compare with the prepared food you purchase? Watch and see how
this changes as you become more attuned to your cooking.
In many quarters the reaction to this suggestion will be, “I
simply don’t have time to cook. I’m barely managing as it is.” But stop and
think what we are really saying when we insist that we have to eat on the run,
that we do not have time to do our own cooking. By saying we do not have time
to prepare food—that which sustains life—aren’t we saying we have no time for
nurturing ourselves and those we love? Are we too busy because we are earning a
living? Maybe—but what good is that living if we do not eat properly? And if we
do not have time to approach food properly, we have no time for life.
How We Eat
Even if our food is fresh, nourishing, and lovingly
prepared, we will not get its full benefit if we eat hurriedly and
unconsciously or when we are out of sorts. Just as cooking in an angry state of
mind degrades the quality of the food being prepared, so does eating when we
are angry or upset. Further, food eaten on the run, or when the mind is in
turmoil, cannot be digested properly. If you have done this, you know it sits
like a lump in the pit of the stomach.
So it is best to eat only when we are calm and totally
present, focusing on each bite with full awareness that it is life itself that
is nourishing us. This can be challenging. Most of us eat on the run and have
formed the habit of popping food in our mouth without paying much attention to
what we are doing. Sometimes we hardly even taste it. Eating this way leads to
a feeling of emptiness, and this is why we often find ourselves looking for a
snack even when we have recently eaten a full meal.
If we find ourselves feeling stressed or out of sorts when
mealtime rolls around, a few minutes of deep breathing or a walk around the
block may quiet the mind so it can focus on the activity at hand. It is also
helpful to pause and acknowledge the source of the food before we begin eating.
This is why many cultures observe certain rituals before eating. In some, a
portion of the food is removed and offered to domesticated animals or reserved
for the poor. In others, a small portion of each dish is removed and offered
into the fire in recognition of the forces that nourish us. A ritual such as
this serves as a reminder that by eating we are connecting ourselves with the
forces of nature—both known and unknown. To eat consciously is to acknowledge
our connection with the source of our existence—which is not matter but spirit.
Offering a portion of our food, even if only mentally, is a way of connecting
ourselves with consciousness, which is our intrinsic nature.
That is why the yogis caution us to be mindful while we eat.
Remember that food is the most basic link with the source of life. Be thankful
for it, pray over it, honor it. We are not just filling our belly; we are
nurturing our mind and spirit as well. Eating with full awareness puts us in
harmony with nature—not only with the external world, but also our own inner
nature. This creates better health, while strengthening our connection to our
intuitive self. For when we are in tune with that wise part of ourselves, our
thinking is clearer, we make decisions that better serve us, and we are drawn
to what matters most in life.
In respecting this vehicle we have been given, and in
honoring the food that nourishes it, we purify our bodies. In the East ritual
offerings are made into a fire, and the smoke from such a fire is believed to
have the power to purify. If the offering is tainted, the smoke is impure and
taints all that it touches. The same holds true of our digestive fire; if we
offer it trash, the impurities it yields affect our whole being. So let us
offer into our own inner fire wholesome gifts that burn clean and yield a pure
mind and body. Abiding by the laws of nature truly nourishes us in all ways.
oods that increase life-span, mental essence, strength,
health, comfort, and pleasantness, that are flavorful, unctuous, stable, and
satisfying to the heart are the foods favored by the sattvic. Bitter, sour,
salty, excessively hot, pungent, dry, and burning are the foods favored by the
rajasic, causing discomfort, depression,
and illness. Not fully cooked, flavorless, smelly, stale, leftover by others,
not fit as an offering is the food favored by the tamasic. —Bhagavad Gita
17:8-10
We all know that food plays a great part in human life. The
best selling of all books are not bibles or other spiritual books but
cookbooks. Our eating habits in the modern world both in the East and in the
West create disasters in human life. The human being is obsessed with food, so
much so that it seems that one is born only for eating. Modern man eats many
times a day without knowing what comprises a nutritious diet. Taste has become
predominant instead of nutrition in the formation of our dietary habits.
Artificial foods are increasing daily. We have lost the sense of food value,
and we eat foods that are unhealthy. Food that is not fresh or nutritious, that
is leftover and full of spices or grease is unhealthy. Overeating and eating
unfresh food and food that is full of fat and spices create many diseases. The
mind and body are inseparable; if proper food is not supplied to the body, the
mind is affected. Such tamasic food makes the mind dull, passive, and inert. On
the other hand, rajasic food agitates the mind and creates hypertension; it is
also unhealthy for the liver and hard on the kidneys. Rajasic food satisfies
the senses, but it is not healthy physically or mentally. Neither is it healthy
for those who want to tread the path of spirituality. Aspirants are advised
that well-selected and well-prepared vegetarian food is healthier than a meat
diet.
That food which does not cause inertia and heaviness and
does not make one restless, lazy, or sleepy is called sattvic food. Those who
eat sattvic food remain calm, quiet, and serene; those who eat rajasic food
become agitated, angry, and worried; those who eat impure food and drink liquor
are tamasic. Those who eat heavy food full of fat and who drink alcohol
excessively suffer both physically and mentally.
Food plays an important role in thought, speech, and action:
it has profound effects on all aspects of human behavior. Diet and environment
are two important factors that play a great role in sadhana. A calm, quiet, and
serene atmosphere and a simple, fresh, and nutritious diet are essential
requisites for the sadhaka.
Board-certified in
internal medicine, Carrie Demers, MD, is a holistic physician who blends modern
medicine with traditional approaches to health. After receiving her medical
degree from the University of Cincinnati, Dr. Demers went on to study massage,
homeopathy, nutrition, herbal medicine, yoga, and ayurveda. She has been the
Director of the Himalayan Institute Total Health Center for the last 16 years.
Widely recognized for her expertise, Dr. Demers has been interviewed by
numerous magazines and newspapers and lectures nationally on holistic health
and ayurveda. She is a frequent contributor to Yoga International
